


Shibui

by Alecto



Series: Fictober 2019 [14]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fictober 2019, Kaijou Week 2019, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, Tea Ceremonies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22077145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alecto/pseuds/Alecto
Summary: 渋さ shi·bu·sanounbeauty that is simple, subtle, and unobtrusive; "beauty with inner implications"
Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto
Series: Fictober 2019 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1529003
Comments: 11
Kudos: 58





	Shibui

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober Day 24 prompt: “Patience… is not something I’m known for.” x Kaijou Week Day 5 prompt: "doing something soft"

When Kaiba shut himself in his study (on a Saturday no less), Jounouchi had nothing but time to explore the Kaibas’ vast mansion. He spent hours wandering its endless hallways and peeking into one room after another. He found all the places he’d expect to find in most homes: kitchen, dining room, bathroom, living rooms, and more bedrooms than he could count. But there also was the indoor pool, a private gym, an honest-to-god dojo, Mokuba’s entire showcase of a room devoted to Capsule Monsters Chess, two separate game rooms, a library packed floor to ceiling with books, and a basement wine cellar. He even stumbled into the attic once but immediately doubled back for fear it was haunted. No matter what purpose they served, every room was cavernous compared to Jounouchi’s tiny LDK apartment.

During his third weekend bumming around the property, Jounouchi discovered something new in the gardens out back. It was a small standalone building hidden behind a thicket of bamboo trees and ringed by carefully sculpted rivers of colored pebbles first in white, then gray, and finally black. Given the unadorned exterior, he mistook it for a garden shed at first. 

Curiosity got the better of him as he followed the path of large flat stones leading to the building’s elevated shoji screen door. He struggled to read the complex kanji written on the wooden plaque mounted next to the door.

He slid open the door, kicked off his sneakers, and climbed inside. Other than the alcove that contained a scroll of ink calligraphy and a small arrangement of orchids and chrysanthemums, the entire room was bare of any furniture or embellishments. The only source of light came from the sunlight filtering in through the screens. He counted four and a half tatami mats on the floor as he circumvented the room in less than a dozen steps. 

Jounouchi still didn’t know what purpose the room served when he returned the next weekend. Summer was fast approaching, and most of the mansion wasn’t air-conditioned despite its western sensibilities. He wondered if the strange empty building and its bamboo shade might provide some relief from the climbing heat. Once again, he shed his shoes and sat inside, facing the open shoji screen. He sighed, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the cool breeze raking through his hair.

Halfway to Dreamland, he realized why the simple colors and plain wooden interior felt so nostalgic. It reminded him of his maternal grandfather’s house, a traditional Kyoto townhouse he last visited when he was nine. He dreamed of that last summer he and Shizuka spent together, hunting frogs along the Kamo River and playing hide-and-seek among ancient towering trees. 

The sun started to set when he awoke to fingers combing through his hair and dipping into his collar to caress his bare skin underneath. He shivered, despite leaning into the familiar touch. The fingers withdrew and patted his collar flat against his back. 

“You’re awake,” Kaiba said and moved his hand into his lap.

Groggy and feeling a little bereft, Jounouchi lifted his head off the tatami mat to stare at the other man. Kaiba sat next to him in a straight-backed seiza, eyes fixed on the bamboo groove beyond the screen door. Jounouchi wondered how Kaiba would react if he resettled his head in Kaiba’s lap. 

He shoved the stray thought away and sat up. “So how d'you find me?”

“Security cameras,” replied Kaiba.

Jounouchi shook his head in disbelief. Sometimes he forgot how heavily surveilled the mansion and its grounds were. Not all of it was Kaiba’s doing either. Gozaburo had been a notably paranoid man when he still lived. The security cameras were never obvious in their placement, but he hadn’t expected this random hut in the backyard to be worth monitoring. 

“So what is this place for? Meditation or something?” He stretched and groaned when something popped in his shoulder. Napping on bare tatami mats would do a number on anyone’s back.

Instead of answering him directly, Kaiba stood and crossed the room. He slid open a furisama door Jounouchi never noticed before and beckoned him to follow. Kaiba flicked a switch on the inner wall, and a lamp sconce on the wall lit up. The low metal sink anchored to the wall was the only other modern amenity besides the lamp. Shelves of bowls and cups took up the rest of the space. 

Jounouchi flashed back to another memory from his summer in Kyoto, where he accidentally shattered an earthenware bowl in a shop. 

“This place is for tea ceremonies!” Jounouchi beamed, proud to have put the pieces together on his own. He sauntered to one of the wall-mounted shelves and picked up a simple, unglazed bowl. He ran a finger along the rim, feeling the ceramic’s porous texture.

“Don’t drop it,” warned Kaiba. “That’s worth a million yen.”

“Holy shit!” He immediately replaced it on the shelf and stepped back. “Why the hell is it out here then? Shouldn’t this be locked up?”

Kaiba shrugged. “That would defeat their purpose. They’re meant to be used.”

“Well, it’s not like you know how to use them, anyway? Right?” He stared at Kaiba. He couldn’t imagine him performing the tea ceremony like in dramas and movies. 

Kaiba arched an eyebrow and smirked. “What makes you think I don’t know how?”

-x-x-x-

A maid tracked Jounouchi down the next Saturday he visited and stuffed him into a pattern-less bronze kimono with a matching hakama. He was at such a loss about how to deal with the many layers he let her dress him. She tutted at his overgrown hair, fluffing it before pulling it into a tiny ponytail. When she finished, she directed him back to the tearoom tucked deep in the gardens. Kaiba was already waiting when he arrived, seated once again in seiza and clad in a solid navy kimono. 

“So what’s this about?” Jounouchi asked as he followed Kaiba’s instruction and took a spot on the tatami mat across from him.

Kaiba ignored his question and fired back one of his own. “Do you know how to sit in seiza or do I have to teach you that too?” 

Grumbling under his breath, Jounouchi copied Kaiba’s posture by tucking his knees and feet behind him before sitting back on his ankles. “There. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Kaiba drawled and turned toward a set of tools arranged to his left. 

Of them, Jounouchi recognized several bowls, a kettle, a wooden ladle, and the million-yen teacup he'd handled last time. The rest were a mystery to him. All this hassle for some bitter-ass tea. “Why are you doing this?”

“You were curious, so I decided to indulge it.”

“You mean you wanted to show off,” Jounouchi snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. He shifted but couldn't find a more comfortable position. Stupid, freaking seiza. 

Even though they were now dating/hanging out/whatever, Kaiba never passed up the opportunity to rub what he didn't know in his face. Jounouchi wouldn’t complain too much. Hopefully, this would be an interesting way to kill some time. Kaiba was spending time with him instead of ignoring him for work. 

“Where d'you learn all this? I didn’t think all this peace and tranquility stuff was your speed.”

Kaiba’s tone was brisk when he spoke, but Jounouchi still picked up on a line of tension belying it. “The traditional arts were a part of my education. On top of subjects like math, languages, and business, I had tutors for calligraphy, kendo, and tea ceremony. Whether I enjoyed them was a moot point. I mastered them like any other challenge set before me.”

Jounouchi fell silent. He never knew what to say or do when Gozaburo’s ghost rose between them. He knew enough to guess, but not enough to understand. The same thing went for Kaiba on those rare occasions he'd trample into Jounouchi's familial landmines. 

Forward, side, back, side-step. Back, side, forward, side-side. Collectively spinning and dodging around the topics between them. It was a waltz they'd learned and practiced in every way except with their actual feet. 

Well, Kaiba probably could waltz. It was something Jounouchi was led to believe rich people did at parties. He couldn't be 100% sure. He'd never been to any fancy shindigs.

Then again, he never expected to sit in on a tea ceremony and be served traditional treats on small lacquered platters with only a wagashi pick as a utensil. Kaiba Seto never did things by halves. 

Maybe Kaiba enjoyed the tea ceremony more than he let on? He had never been shy about discarding the other relics from Gozaburo’s time. Take Alcatraz Island for example. In comparison, the tearoom was regularly cleaned and its collection well-maintained. A fresh arrangement of white lilies and indigo irises had replaced last week’s flowers in the alcove.

Kaiba worked with grace, transforming his usual economy of movement into refined fluidity. Every action, from lighting the small portable stove to ladling water, was painstakingly deliberate. Jounouchi felt like he was watching a different person. He’d grown to like Kaiba’s usual abrasiveness and sharp-edged intensity. The Kaiba Seto he knew was always in motion, whether he was winning duels or making business deals. 

This was another side of Kaiba that Jounouchi rarely saw. One he’d only glimpsed in pre-dawn hours. Jounouchi found he liked this Kaiba too—contemplative and almost soft, his eyes sheathed but not blunted. Sometimes, he found himself searching for him even when Kaiba was spitting fire and melting iron with his gaze. 

It was there, lingering on the fringes of whatever they'd become, wary as a wounded hawk and interred in the undergrowth of a neglected garden. Without meaning to, Jounouchi had ended up with metaphorical dirt under his fingernails and thorn-pricked fingers. 

Sweat trickled down his back. He shifted to combat the cramp developing in his thigh.

Kaiba cast a sidelong glance. “Getting antsy already, Jounouchi?”

“Patience… isn’t something I’m known for, you know?” he sighed. “But don’t mind me. You do you.”

Jounouchi didn’t mind sitting and sweating in seiza as long as Kaiba found a rare moment’s peace in the ritual of making tea.


End file.
